Saturday, December 30, 2006

Part 3: France and Germany

Making the decision to purposely be apart from someone you love for any length of time is difficult. I think, in most cases, we have a tendency to over think or under think the consequences of being apart. If we over think these decisions we most likely won't go through with them. If we under think them then we don't actually grasp the gravity of the decision or it's effect on everyone involved. So it was after many lengthy conversations involving many tears and with a feeling of adventure that Christine and I parted ways in Amsterdam. She headed to Frankfurt and then eventually to Heidelberg, Germany and I boarded a tiny airplane that was destined for the little airport in Bordeaux, France. Now, just in case you don't know where either Bordeaux or Heidelberg is on a map I suggest you either look it up or ask Jeremy Kroeker our trusted geographical specialist.

Anyways, the first few days were, at best, terrible. My room in the university residence was pink (not that there is anything wrong with that) and it was a fixer up'er to put it lightly. It took almost a week before Christine and I connected again. Soon there after, it became routine that we would talk at least two or three times a week. Most often I would crouch inside the phone booth, called "cabine" in French, for hours at a time. I crouched because standing became painful after an hour or so. My fellow Winnipegers would look down from their windows and shake their heads saying that eventually they would buy me a chair.
We saw each other again after about a month. On a spur of the moment we decided to meet in Paris because it was a good middle point for the both of us. The best thing about being apart is being together again. The worst thing about being together again was knowing that you will be apart again. And so it went the entire year. In November I suprised Christine by waiting at the train station for an entire day (no, that's not an exageration. I literally waited from 5:30 am to shortly after 6 pm.) In December we spent Christmas together and then went to Switzerland for New Year's. In January we went to Ireland and in March we went to Madrid, Spain. In between Christine visited me a few times in Bordeaux, some planned, some not, and therefore we saw each other at least once a month. Finally, in April, I moved to Heidelberg to be with Christine and to study German. Little did Christine know that I was bringing an extra special present direct from Canada. Now, the decision to propose was not taken lightly. I have had a tendency thoughout my life to over-analyze things. Just when I think I have made my decision I find a clever way of talking myself out of it. It was therefore good that my best friend, who actually brought the ring from Canada, asked me every question he could think of. He wanted to ensure that I was doing this for all the right reasons. Despite not spending alot of time together over the last few years I have continued to value his opinion and friendship. There are certains friends in life that, even though one doesn't see them as often, they remain close.
During the year I also spent alot of time reflecting on my relationship with Christine. I am a firm believer that being apart is one of the best indications as to whether or not you will function well as a couple not only now but in the future. As the old cliché goes, if you are meant to be together... It is with this thought that I came into the year and with this thought that I made my decision. Originally, we were each going to get an engagement ring but my love for the look of suprise got the better of me. Since Christine and I had discussed getting married prior to the purchase of the ring I knew the answer before I even asked. It would have been terribly awkward had she said no and I probably would have had to spend the rest of my life in the arctic building ice castles for the wealthy to avoid the embarassment, but of course she said yes. (For the full story see the post with the engagement ring.)
In any case, I came back to Winnipeg in July and once again we did the distance thing. Christine remained in Germany for five more weeks while she finished up the school year and I, once again, joined the working world. I went through your usual culture shock (i.e. not as many well dressed people, english and varieties of it being spoken everywhere, the sadness of streets that weren't cobblestone) and with my new ability to speak 3 languages, felt a little odd working in retail once again. Anyways, the five weeks dragged on like a hot summer night where all you want to do is rest. For some odd reason the last month proved to be the hardest. The end is in sight but just out of reach. Then, despite all of that missing and worrying and sadness, it's over. You're together as if no time had passed. It's alot like Christmas in some respects. You spend so much time waiting for this one day and then magically...it comes, then goes.
Being apart is, well, hard. But the reward in the end of a stronger, deeper relationship makes the days seem like hours and the hours like minutes. The experiences had and lessons learned enrich your lives not only independantly but together as well. To be a strong couple you need to be a strong individual first. You need to search, grow, cry, laugh and long. The decision to be apart now, we both knew, was a personal investment in our future. You can never see the end from the beginning but you always will end up exactly where you are supposed to be.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Chapters Christmas

My dad, enjoying his cup of tea :)

David + Andrea = Christmas

My beautiful sister...

This is my mother, whom I love...

About five years ago, when both Andrea and I were sufficiently grown up, my parents decided to stop with the headache of shopping (both of them hate it!) and do something a little more unconventional for Christmas. We all love books, and we all love music, so the best place to get gifts for us is either a book or music store anyway. So, Chapters Christmas was born. We all go to Chapters, peruse books and music until we find something that we want, and then, we all go for coffee at Starbucks. Both my mother and sister are what you could call coffee addicts, and I don't mind a Tazo Chai Latte myself. My father hates specialty coffee so he gets tea and a brownie, and all of us are happy, unstressed, and pleased with our Christmas gift. And this year, since David decided not to go to Ontario, he got to take part in our tradition for the first time. We all decided it was a great success. Our main gift, of course, will be our donation, as David already wrote about, but this way we have something to read, and music to listen to, which is basically all we do on Dec. 25, anyway. It is very quiet in our household until dinnertime, because we are all reading and drinking coffee (or tea) voraciously. Anyway, here are some memories of Chapters Christmas, 2006.

Friday, December 22, 2006

Rempel Christmas

Since everyone else on my mom's side of the family (including Andrea) decided to go to Florida this Christmas, we celebrated early... with a salmon dinner. Yum! Everyone was excited to have Colin back for a change... he's been studying on scholarship at the University of Seattle and we miss him like crazy. We enjoyed Christmas goodies (including Nürnberger Lebkuchen and Weinbrandbohnen!!), great conversation, and the time we had together...


Meet Jie, our Shanghai-cousin... Don't ask. I have no idea.Hillary owns this Monopoly game! Andrea telling a story to a captive audience :)

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

It was the week before Christmas...

This Christmas we have decided to do something a bit different in terms of gift giving. We did the regular "pull the names out of a hat or cup or object that allows for easy name grabbing access", but instead of scowering the malls or shopping feverishly online we have decided to donate to a charity. It does seem a bit unconventional but I don't think I had been this excited about Christmas in a long time. It is quite amazing how far thirty dollars can go! I think, during this season, we often forget about why we are buying gifts in the first place. We get so caught up in the frenzy and consequently grow to dislike the "holidays." We buy more and more every year but never seem to feel satisfied. It sometimes feels like more of an obligation to buy gifts than a pleasure. If we took just 1/20 of what we were going to spend on gifts and decided to buy a goat for a family in Peru or school supplies for children in South Africa in a friend or family member's name, it would not only cause them to think and question but also to maybe re-evaluate Christmas and it's meaning.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Christmas at the Bay

The Bay is something of a tradition in Winnipeg, and coming to the Bay at Christmas time and looking at the displays on the fifth floor is all part of the Christmas season. So, Andrea and I decided to show David what he had missed in his childhood...


Hansel and Gretel inside the life-sized gingerbread house.


Awww...


The red hat duo- coming soon to a neighbourhood near you...

O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum....

This year, David got to be a part of our Christmas tree decorating ritual for the first time. My dad is the tree wizard, and as Boney M plays in the background, we hook and hang until the tree looks beautiful!


Mom and Andrea untangle hooks and attach them to little angels...

David takes a turn hanging something on the tree.


Now David, this is how you do things... says Walter the professional.


All tuckered out... decorating a Christmas tree is so much work!

Sunday, November 19, 2006

We've Registered...

Just so people know... (all the bridal magazines say that you are not supposed to put the places you are registering in the invitation, because that is crass, so I am putting it on the Internet instead) we have registered at two places so far:

Linens 'N Things www.lnt.com
The Bay www.hbc.ca

And we are planning on registering at Ten Thousand Villages. You can find our registries at the above websites. Thank you for your support!

For those of you who haven't seen it














I realized that something of interest may in fact be my engagement ring. How it came to be on my finger is really a very interesting story that I do not have the time to tell right now. I am posting a picture for all of you to enjoy, and to laugh at because my fingers are so stubby, and the story will come soon!

*Dinis, our trusty photographer, does not take any responsibility for the cheesiness of this shot, because I asked him to take it. :)

Monday, November 13, 2006

News Flash!

After long consideration, we have decided, due to a number of different reasons, to stay in Canada after we are married in May, instead of heading staight to Heidelberg, as was the plan. We have mixed feelings about this, of course. We both love Germany, and I especially have some very special friends whom I miss terribly, and it would have been great to do Master's work in translation. But, sometimes God slows you down. So, we have decided not to rush things. Going back to Heidelberg is still the plan, in two years, when David has finished his degree in Education. Until then we will work on our German and enjoy the time we have here in Winnipeg with my family and hopefully some time with David's family in Port Hope. Thanks for keeping us in your thoughts and prayers and reading up on our adventures.


Saturday, November 04, 2006

Meet the wedding party... Mikko

Thundercats and one litre of beer...

Mikko

I met Mikko in grade 12 but we really didn't become friends until OAC (or grade 13 for those of you not from Ontario.) We both had returned to high school for OAC because we simply didn't know what else to do. One of the first things I remember about Mikko is sitting in the library with a few other people and getting him to say words in Jamacian. Now, Mikko isn't Jamacian nor does he even look remotely like he comes from anywhere warm, he just has this ridiculas ability to say words in what resembles a Jamacian accent. If you have ever heard of the terrible rapper Snow from the early nineties then you will understand what I mean. Anyways, Mikko and I quickly became good friends over many basketball games, trips to the Pickering Town Centre, video game sessions, and lunch trips to Wendy's where we vented about girls. All in all we battled small town bordom together. He is one of the most generious people I have ever met and I have asked him to join the best wedding party ever and be my groomsman.

Meet the wedding party... Wil


Wil

Wil and I have known each other for quite sometime now. We met in grade 4 at Central Public school in Port Hope, Ontario. I was the seasoned veteran having already masterfully completed every grade including both junior and senior kindergarten and he was the new kid. I took him under my wing and taught him about the better things in life, such as hockey and baseball cards, and not to mention Nintendo. Wil and I walked to school together from grade 4 all the way to grade 12. Many a conversation was had about how we would eventually grow up and leave Port Hope. Wil went off to OCAD (Ontario College of Art and Design) in Toronto and before he even finished he had purchased and built an art gallery on Dundas st. in Toronto's portuguese district. I have met few people in my life who work as hard as he does. Though our paths have taken us in different directions these last few years, he has remained my best friend. Wil will be doing me the honour of being my best man.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Meet the wedding party... Andrea

Andrea, in a typical pose...
Andrea
I have known Andrea since she came home from the hospital and I bit her arm. (I was three, okay?) Since then the two of us have grown up together, sharing both the pitfalls and the triumphs of the other. Andrea is our resident coffee maker and drinker (and now my mom is hooked, too.) She knows all the coolest music and has seen all the latest films. She is the most sarcastic person I have ever met, but is wonderfully supportive and hilariously funny all at the same time. I have asked Andrea to be my other honoured maid, as in bridesmaid.

Meet the wedding party... Anna


Anna
I have known Anna Wiebe longer than I have known most of my friends. She and I met when we were supposed to speak at a Mennonite gathering in front of a lot of people. I remember my mom telling me afterwards that Anna was going to Westgate in grade 7, and she told her mom and Deb told my mom that Anna thought I would make a good friend. Well, we didn't really get our act together until the 12th grade, and since then a lot of our friendship has been long-distance, but I love Anna so much. She has been there with me through thick and thin, encouraging me when I needed it, bringing me off my high horse when I needed it, and being my adventure buddy here at home and far away. I have asked her to be my maid of honour, and wow, is she excited!!

Sunday, October 29, 2006

At the bridal shop

The first dress I tried on... it was so heavy and huge!

Tada! The train
Yikes! I am not sure what this is...

So many pretty dresses...

Can you guess which dress I chose? (Answer: none of the above) But I think looking at the pictures is fun anyway. Anna and I had such a fun time picking out dresses and it was a real riot trying them on. Trying them on, though, is sometimes a real work out. Those things are HEAVY!

Saturday, October 28, 2006

The Dress


Okay, so yesterday Anna (my maid of honour) and I finally went wedding dress shopping. It was a great way to relax and have some fun after such a stressful past week. I tried on all sorts of dresses, even a humongous poofy one I would never wear outside of a bridal shop in a million years. It had sparkles all over it and a train that weighed almost as much as I do. The picture I posted was my Omi's wedding dress, which I thought was appropriate. Anna took lots of pictures of our wedding dress adventures, and I should have them up for your viewing pleasure shortly. The best part... I think I found one. I had originally asked a seamstress to make a dress I saw in a magazine, but I tried this one dress on, and it was like it was made for me. It fit perfectly, with off the shoulder straps, pretty beading and rushing, rouching (how in the world do you spell that??) from bust to waist. It is so beautiful and I am so excited. I think I would wear my grandmother's veil with it. Well, we'll see. That's the news from here.

In memory of my Omi



A Tribute to My Omi, October 26, 2006
My memories of Omi are like snapshots, pieces of remembering that are part experience, part smell, part taste, part texture, part feeling.

Omi was someone who cherished her memories, even the ones that were scary or sad. She believed that they were a part of her, in the same way that our memories of our Omi are a part of us. She was a master storyteller, and I know I spent hours sitting on her green couch, watching out the window and listening to her tell about her life. A life rich with adventure, pain, love, and faith.

Perhaps she told us her memories, because she knew she was forgetting, and wanted to preserve them somehow. Her stories of escaping the Communists through dark forests filled with soldiers, hiding under trains, staying very quiet while hanging onto horse reigns so that the Russians wouldn’t see her. The stories of her mother, her father, her sisters and brothers. Tante Tin, who played the guitar. Henry, with shrapnel in his head, Mimi, who had meningitis as a girl, Lilly, who was by her side always and almost her sister… These stories made up the fabric of her life. And now they have become part of our living fabric.

I remember Omi.

In my childhood memories, she is Superwoman, running around in the backyard with us, dancing Hapak, staying up past my bedtime talking about boys and periods and what I want to be when I grow up. She also makes the best Obstmoos of anyone I know, always has oatmeal cookies in her mushroom cookie jar, and knows people all over the world. She speaks English, German, Russian, Ukrainian and Low German. She is always available for tea and talking, folding paper hats or making paper dolls, and making me laugh.

After my childhood memories, which are bright, colourful, vibrant... come memories I sometimes wish I had the capacity to forget. This was Omi's forgetting time, the gradual erasure of all the memories she held so dear. I remember once, I was only a child, I came into her apartment and she was staring into a hand mirror and crying. "Christine," she told me, "you have to promise me something." Frightened, I nodded, "Of course, anything. Anything." "I have a bad sickness," she said. "A sickness that will make me forget. It will make me forget your name, and who you are. And I need you to promise me that you will love me for always, even when I do not know you." "I promise Omi, I promise." It was not an easy promise to keep. It was difficult watching her slip away from us.

But at the same time, I learned. I learned from my grandmother about dignity and grace, about faith, about taking joy in the moment. And indeed, a bird in a branch, a furry caterpillar, a flower, a child's laugh, would bring a beaming smile to her lips, a smile that lit up her whole face and made her brown eyes sparkle. Even when she could no longer speak coherently to us, her smile was the same.

We remember Omi.

Julian remembers Omi’s famous backrubs, and eating Obstmoos with ice cream.
Hillary remembers going to Bethania to sing Christmas songs.
Jeremy remembers that Omi told him to sit up straight or else he would grow a hump on his back that would never go away. She used to have to sit with a broomstick, after all.
Colin remembers riding in her red car, holding the round crocheted pillow on his lap in the back seat.
Andrea remembers the Our Canada coffee table book that she and Omi paged through ceaselessly with bright shiny pictures Omi exclaimed over every single time.
Alex remembers going to Omi's for sleepovers and watching elephants and lions on television while a red-haired guy narrated the outdoor adventures.
Stephanie remembers making paper hats and ironing lessons, or shall we say, admonishments. "Stephanie, fass das nicht an! Fass das nicht an!"
Graeme remembers that Omi hated white cars and always told him that his first car should be red.
Zachary remembers melodies of songs she always sang to us before we fell asleep about little men wearing red capes living out in the forest, and little ducks bobbing in the water.

I am getting married in a few months. David and I met two years ago, at a time when Omi was already unable to recognize us and unable to speak. During the course of our relationship, I have often commented to him how much I wish he could have known her, really experienced her love of art, of music, of good food, of language, of helping others, her love for all of us. I said it again the day she died. He looked at me for a moment, and then said: "But I do know her. I can see her in the way you care about each other and about those around you. Look how many grandchildren sing or play an instrument. All of the grandchildren speak more than 1 language. Look at those who have a fascination with creating art. She is a part of all of you."

Omi is a part of all of us. She is woven into our living fabric. Every memory we have of her, every story someone tells us about her. That becomes part of our fabric too. That is what we can cherish.

Wir haben dich lieb, Omi. Träum was Süßes.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Susanne Rempel (geb. Wiebe)
February 13, 1928 - October 22, 2006
This post is in memory of my Omi, who was my favourite person in the world when I was a little girl. A grandma who could dance and sing, cook delicious Obstmoos (fruit soup), always had hands ready for backrubs, and a heart ready for loving anyone who came her way.
Liebe Omi, danke für alle Erinnerungen. Ich habe dich lieb.
Alles Liebe,
Deine Christine (und David)
The funeral will take place on Thursday, October 26, 2006 at Douglas Mennonite Church.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Part 2: Winnipeg, Manitoba

Winnipeg, Manitoba.

When asked about the location of Winnipeg, Manitoba I simply replied, "west." To be honest I didn't know where exactly I was moving to. In my mind it was west and well, being from Southern Ontario, West was well, West. It didn't matter if it was the first, second, third or forth province West, it was not Southern Ontario. In some ways Canada revolves around Ontario and often times Ontarians, myself included, forget that life actually exists in other parts of the country. Anyways, I am getting away from the story.

"You could move to Winnipeg," she had said. Not quite expecting this offer to be seriously considered.

The thought ran through my head for at least 2 days.

To be honest I don't know how I came to the conclusion so quickly but I saw this as an opportunity to really break out of the small town bubble which I had become so accustomed to. I decided to let life take me where it may.
I can only imagine the look on my mothers face when she heard that her youngest son had decided to move to another province because he had met a girl. To a province she was sure was West but a more pressing fact was that it was far, far away. I love my mom dearly and had I not felt a need to leave I would have stayed. Also, had this girl not had a special something to her I wouldn't have considered it but there was something about her that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

3 weeks later I found myself literally in the middle of Canada.

It's amazing how things look the same but feel completely different. Same stores, same look, viewed with the same eyes but different feel.

Throughout that first year I kept recalling a conversation I had had with a friend of mine before I left. She had asked me why I had decided to leave. In reponse I simply said, "I want things to be harder." Life, in my opinion at the time, was too easy. And with this decision things certainly got harder. This was something I felt that God kept reminding me of. "Well, that's what you asked for isn't it?" To which I could only reply, "I guess so."

In that year I grew in the ways that I believe everyone needs to at some point in their lives. It kind of felt like a maturing of sorts. You can't exactly pin-point all of the ways in which you have grown or changed but they are there. I don't think I would have made it through without Christine and her family. It is funny how in hindsight one sees all of these connections and directions that life takes. Whether through concious decisions or not our lives take course with or without our knowledge. Christine had told me well into our relationship that when she met me in Trois Pistoles she had written in her diary that she would one day marry me. At this I was a bit suprised. I mean how many people actually know this? Is it even possible? The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that I guess I must have known all along as well. Otherwise, how did I end up in the middle of Canada?

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Bridezilla, and why I refuse to be one

I am not going to be Bridezilla. I promise here on this website, which is read by friends and family, that I will not turn into Bridezilla, which is this freaky breed of person that some female people who are going to be married turn into when faced with the task of planning their "big day."
Here are my promises:
1. My bridesmaids are picking their own dresses, ie. having them made. The fabric for these dresses will not be itchy or pink.
2. I will not try to burn the church down with 1 million candles. The candles I do get will be from Catholics, who know how to make candles that burn slowly and don't drip everywhere.
3. I don't care about what people wear to my wedding. You can come in jeans and a t-shirt.
4. I have very few expectations about how things "should" go. The only one I have is that something will go wrong, like I will trip on the hem of my dress and fall flat on my nose while walking up or down the aisle, and will step on somebody or trip on some cord at least once at the reception.
5. I am not getting a seperate outfit, or my hair done, or my nails done for my bridal shower or any sort of bachelorette that may or may not take place.
6. I am not reading 5 hundred books on perfect weddings.
7. I have not dreamt of my wedding dress since I was 4. It never occurred to me that it was terribly important as a child.
8. I will not freak out about anything. Honestly.
9. I am not the most important person in the universe. Not ever. Not even on May 5, 2007.
10. I will worry more about having a good time than about details.

No Bridezilla. You heard it here first.
Christine

Monday, September 11, 2006

Part 1: Trois-Pistoles, QC

Once upon a time, there was a girl with a big red suitcase who boarded a bus to the tiny village of Trois-Pistoles, Quebec, which is right on the Saint Laurence river. She got a room with a view at Priscille's house, which overlooked the river and the bicycle shop next door.

Once upon the same time, there was a boy who wanted to learn French who landed up in Trois-Pistoles, Quebec for the Semaine Preperatoire before the Summer Language Program began. He was roommates with a guy named Trevor who was studying to become a Catholic priest.

It so happened that the girl arrived a bit early for the course in Trois-Pistoles, and she had just arrived with her big red suitcase and had packed away her clothes and her scarves when Priscille called her downstairs to eat dinner. She walked down the stairs just as the door opened and the tall quiet boy who wanted to learn French walked in the door. She thought he had very beautiful eyes and she didn't know what to say, not because of his eyes, but because she had to speak in French.

The boy thought the girl was very pretty and very smart. He didn't know what to say to her, and he wouldn't have known what to say to her, even he hadn't had to speak French. So, the girl and the boy were very quiet and Priscille talked a lot.

That night, lots of other girls and boys arrived in Trois-Pistoles for the Summer Language Bursary Program, which is a learning-French-for-anglophones project funded by the Government of Canada. The girl with the big red suitcase and lots of scarves and the boy who wanted to learn French registered for their classes and workshops and spent a lot of time together.

The girl and the boy talked about lots of things, especially about God, because of Trevor, who was studying to be a Catholic priest. They also talked about their families, about their dreams, and about their favourite things. And they always spoke only French, which made things a little bit complicated.

One weekend, all the boys and girls piled into a big bus and went to Quebec City. The girl and the boy stayed in a hostel without all the other people. They spent the days going to the art museum and having a picnic on the Plains of Abraham. In the evening they went out for dinner and strolled on the board walk and talked (in English) until 3 am. Then the boy took the girl's hand.

The next day, the boy and the girl went to have coffee and the girl said to the boy: "What do you want from this?" and the boy was quiet. He thought and thought. "You could move to Winnipeg," said the girl, as a joke. The boy thought and thought. "I have to think about it," the boy said.

In the days that followed, the boy and the girl walked to school hand in hand. They talked in French again, about all sorts of things. The other boys and girls whispered and giggled. But the girl and the boy didn't care. Then one evening the boy said: "I've decided to move to Winnipeg." So the girl phoned her parents and said: "Mom and Dad, I wanted to tell you I have a special friend and he is moving to Winnipeg and I was wondering if he could live at our house." "Okay," said the mother, "What is his name?"

So the girl and the boy made plans about the boys move to Winnipeg. It was hard when the girl packed up her big red suitcase and got back on the bus to go home, but they both knew that in a few weeks they would be seeing each other again.

They talked every day on the phone for 3 hours, and got to know eachother better. And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship...

Saturday, September 02, 2006

The Engagement Party...

Last Sunday, our engagement was announced in church, so now it is officially official. Apparantly there is actually a law about having to announce your engagement in a public place. Go figure. I learn something new every day. After church, we were invited out for lunch by my Oma, and that included my dad's whole side of the family, those of us who live here in Winnipeg, that is.

And then in the evening, everyone gathered at our house for Kaffee and Kuchen. My mom was baking cakes all week in anticipation, especially since the various dietary concerns make every kind of culinary gathering an adventure. I don't think there have ever been so many people in our kitchen! My dad made a speech... and then we toasted with champagne, even those of us who were underage excitedly took the sip. Some glasses were discarded after the first taste (um, we'll leave this one unnamed), but others drank bravely on (Alexander). We were so happy to have everyone over. And having both sides of the family over at the same time was good practise for the wedding! ;)

We have now had two engagement parties. The first one, of course, was on April 30, 2006, the actual day of our engagement, in the Ökumenisches Wohnheim in Heidelberg, with a number of my roommates, with my head still buzzing with the excitement and magnitude of the promise we had just made to eachother. There was even some cake, since someone is always baking over there. We drank delicious Port wine I had brought back from my visit to Portugal, and I had to do some serious convincing to persuade people that we actually were engaged and no, it was not a joke!! (Yeon, Beni) Thanks to all of you who celebrated with us, and who celebrate with us now from far away.

Viele liebe Grüße,
Christine

Friday, August 25, 2006

The Beginning...


Hi everyone both near and far...
I have been back in Winnipeg for just over 2 weeks now, and already I am up to my ears in planning for the coming year(s). Dave and I thought we could start a blog so that all of you could have a glimpse into our lives while we plan for our wedding and our move to Germany next fall. We want to give you an idea of what has gone on before now in our relationship... with some photos and anecdotes, and of course the classic stories like "meet the parents" and "the proposal". We are looking forward to this way of communicating... so that everyone can have an idea of the goings-on, and also to hear back from you about what is going on in your lives.
With much love,
(on behalf of David too)
Christine

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